


Stupid Stunts for Special Treatment

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [39]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is a Softie, Fluff, Gargoyles, Humor, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Injuries, Monster of the Week, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pining Derek, Protective Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, Stiles is Not Tarzan, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25229503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: First of all, Stiles would like to say he didn’t agree with Derek’s definition of ‘stupid stunts’. And second of all, falling out of trees really hurt.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956889
Comments: 13
Kudos: 518





	Stupid Stunts for Special Treatment

First of all, Stiles would like to say he didn’t agree with Derek’s definition of ‘stupid stunts’. And second of all, falling out of trees really hurt.

See, Stiles hadn’t planned on being in a tree that Saturday night. He hadn’t woken up that morning and decided “Hey, you know what’s a good idea? Climbing up a tree and then proceeding to fall out and break two bones. That sounds like a wild time.”

That thought never crossed his mind. You know, like a normal person.

But then Derek proceeded to swing through his window and notify him that the latest Beacon Hill’s threat was a flock of gargoyles. And Stiles was the bait.

He loved his life.

That all was how he ended up being in a tree. Stiles wasn’t sure why he thought it was a good idea to climb up there when gargoyles could fly, but it was the first thought that had crossed his mind when he was running through the preserve for his life. So yeah, there was that.

Gargoyles had wings. Stiles decided to remember that next time Derek made him the bait. 

He would like to say that in his defense, Stiles had been watching Tarzan earlier. And when he went out into the preserve that night, he might’ve been thinking about how cool it would be to be able to swing from tree to tree. Not like that influenced his later decision or anything.

Okay, it might have.

“You’re the bait,” he muttered, swinging his baseball bat back and forth as he walked. “You’re always the bait, Stiles. But don’t worry, we’ll all still consider you the token human and call you fragile when things come down to it! But how do you feel about risking your life every other weekend anyway? It’ll be fun!”

Stiles didn’t think this was fun at all. 

Up until today, he hadn’t even known gargoyles were a thing. They most certainly weren’t supposed to be, thank you very much. Gargoyles were supposed to be stone figures that sat on top of creepy old buildings and didn’t move. But instead, they were giant creatures with leather wings and sharp claws that screeched like dying cats when they attempted to kill someone.

Stiles learned that first hand.

When they were attempting to kill him, that was.

“Derek!” he shouted, really wishing he had laid off the curly fries that summer as he ran through the seemingly empty forest. “Derek, you furry asshole, now would be a good time to come to this token human’s aid!”

Stiles didn’t know where the hell the wolves were but if he died out here tonight because they were being lazy, he was so going to come back and haunt them all.

The moment he managed to duck out of the gargoyles’ sight, the first thing Stiles saw was a nice, tall tree. His dad had always told him if he was running from predators, the best thing to do was climb the nearest tree, so Stiles took off toward it.

He didn’t really stop to think things through.

It was only when he was about fifteen feet off the ground that Stiles remembered gargoyles had wings, he was really bad a climbing, and currently, he was all alone.

Still though, the moment he saw beady yellow eyes and sharp fangs, Stiles did the first thing that came to mind. He jumped toward the next closest tree.

It was then that Stiles remembered he wasn’t Tarzan either.

When Stiles hit the ground, he heard something crack. He cried out and curled his fingers into the dirt, feeling the pain like a punch to the gut. Faintly, Stiles heard the sound of the gargoyles and their screeches growing louder and mentally braced himself for the claws about to tear through his back.

Except then finally, Stiles heard the sound of sharp howls cutting through the night. He let out a sigh of relief and went limp, trying to think of something other than the pain currently curling through his gut.

Derek reached him first.

Stiles could hear the sounds of the other wolves fighting, but then there was a presence by his side and he didn’t need to look over to know who it was. Derek touched his arm and then snarled, pulling back.

“You’re hurt.”

“Yeah, Sourwolf, that usually happens to humans when they remember they can’t fly.”

“Is it bad?”

Stiles shifted and then hissed. “I think I broke something.

“A bone.”

“No,” Stiles said. “My face. Yes, a bone!”

Derek muttered something that Stiles didn’t catch and then swept an arm underneath his legs. Before Stiles could react, he was being picked up off the ground and pain crashed over him once more. This time, he wasn’t able to hold back a shout.

“Derek, you asshole, put me down!”

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“No, I’m continuing to lay on the ground. Derek, that hurts! Put me down!”

Of course, Derek ignored him. Stiles would struggle if he could but he’d really rather not hurt anymore, so he just stayed limp in his arms. Derek growled something to the rest of his pack and then turned away but at that point, Stiles was sweeping in and out of consciousness.

His everything hurt.

“Stay with me, Stiles,” Derek said. Stiles huffed a laugh.

“I’m not dying, asshole.”

“No, you’re not.”

“But maybe I could be. Cause dude, I hurt. Like a lot. Can I just be dying instead?”

Derek only growled in answer. Stiles laughed and then gasped, everything turning black for a long, painful second. When he came snapping back to reality, Derek was setting him in the Camaro and Stiles let loose a loud whine, feeling like his bones were grinding together.

“Stop it,” Derek said. He looked visibly bothered by Stiles’s sounds of pain. Stiles only made louder noises and went boneless in the seat.

Derek shot him a glare as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Why the hell did you climb a tree?” 

“It was the first idea that came to me,” Stiles groaned. Derek looked even more irritated.

“To escape from monsters with wings.”

“I never said it was a good idea.”

“Dammit, Stiles,” Derek said, stepping on the gas. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Is that a compliment, Sourwolf?”

“No more stupid stunts.

“Then maybe you should stop making this token human bait,” Stiles rasped. He kept one arm wrapped around his side although he was pretty sure that was doing nothing to help with the pain. Derek glanced sideways for a moment and then sighed, reaching over and placing a hand on Stiles’s knee.

Almost instantly, the pain started to lessen.

“You know,” Stiles said. “Maybe we could just skip the hospital altogether and go to the loft instead? I trust your, uh, splinting skills, dude.”

“That’s not how you fix a broken rib.”

“Oh, is that what you think this is?”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek growled. If Stiles looked over, the man’s face was startling pale and his fingers around the steering wheel seemed to tremble slightly. Stiles grinned despite himself.

“Dude, are you worried about me?”

“No.”

“I’m not dying,” Stiles said. “Seriously.”

“You could have been.”

“From falling out of a tree?”

“If you hit at the right angle,” Derek said, eyes flashing. “Yes.”

Stiles felt his smile slip away. He glanced back toward the road and the rest of the drive to the hospital was a silent one. Stiles already knew what was awaiting him; a lecture from Melissa, a call to his dad, and the ultimate (possibly life-threatening) grounding.

Probably.

Derek came around the side of the Camaro and Stiles sighed as the man picked him up again. With one of Derek’s hands on his arm, some of the pain was leeched away, and he didn’t feel like he could black out this time. He still winced every time Derek jostled him too much though.

The man seemed to notice that.

“Sorry,” Derek said. Stiles smirked up at him.

“I forgot I wasn’t Tarzan.”

“What.”

“How cool would that have been?” Stiles said, mostly to himself this time instead of Derek. “If I could have jumped from tree to tree? Dude, I should totally be Tarzan. Just drop me off on a deserted island with a bunch of gorillas for a year or two.”

“I think you’re in shock, Stiles.”

“Naw, dude,” Stiles said. “I’m just saying. I wouldn’t need a baseball bat if I was Tarzan.”

The man looked down at him, shaking his head. Stiles grinned.

The moments between the waiting room, Melissa coming into view, the foretold lecture, and waking up in a hospital bed were all a blur. Stiles felt woozy when he came back-to and the first thing he noticed was that his dad wasn’t around yet. The second was that Derek’s head was on his lap and he was pretty sure the man was asleep.

Stiles froze and stared at him. Then, as if he was trying not to wake a sleeping bear, he shifted a little. But of course, that was just enough.

Derek startled and his eyes snapped open. The man went rigid and then relaxed, blinking tiredly for a moment. A shiver ran down Stiles’s spine as he was fixed with a red-eyed gaze.

“You don’t speak of this to anyone, Stiles.”

“Oo-kay, Softiewolf.”

Derek blinked at him again and then pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair. It looked kind of adorable. Like a mouse had made a home in the middle of it.

Derek raised a brow. Stiles stared back until he realized all of that had slipped from his lips. In a panic, he clapped his hands over his mouth. But Derek only looked a little amused.

“You’re drugged.”

“I am not.”

“Stiles, you just told me that my, and I quote, ‘bunny teeth would appropriately suit a mouse living in my hair. Because both of those things are adorable and they just make sense.’”

Stiles stared at him. He didn’t remember saying that.

“Just because you don’t remember saying it doesn’t mean you didn’t.”

“Dude, stop reading my mind!”

“I’m not reading your mind,” Derek huffed. “You just happen to be thinking out loud.”

Stiles glared at him, deciding he no longer wanted Derek to be his caretaker. Derek sucked. He wanted his dad even if it did come with an eternal grounding.

“Your father is still on a shift,” Derek said, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. “He should be here in a few hours.”

“Oh my god!”

“Not god,” Derek said. “Just a werewolf.”

“Stop it,” Stiles said miserably. “You’re not allowed to have jokes. Mind reading grumpy werewolves aren’t allowed to have jokes.”

Derek’s face softened. He reached out and touched the back of Stiles’s hand, black lines starting to creep up his arm. Stiles sighed despite himself, practically melting into the touch. Derek shook his head.

“No more stupid stunts, Stiles. Please.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You broke two ribs.”

“I was trying not to get killed,” Stiles mumbled. Derek’s face tightened a little and he almost looked… guilty?

“No more stupid stunts,” the man said. “And no more bait.”

“No more bait?”

“We’ll use one of the betas. Or Jackson.”

“They won’t like that,” Stiles said. Derek only chuckled and squeezed his hand a little tighter. The man actually looked sincere. Stiles didn’t know what to do with that.

“I’m the Alpha.”

“Wow, dude.”

“They’ll do what I say.”

“Sure.”

Derek rolled his eyes and removed his hand again. There were no more black lines creeping up his arm, though, and Stiles didn’t really hurt anymore. He just felt tired now. Tired and a little brain heavy.

Maybe he was drugged.

“You are,” Derek said. Stiles grumbled something dark and the man only chuckled, pulling the blankets up to Stiles’s neck. He was a little woozy but he could’ve sworn gentle fingers traced down the side of his cheek before pulling away. But maybe it was the drugs.

“It wasn’t,” Derek said softly. Stiles tried to look at him but his eyes were heavy now too. Derek leaned back as Stiles let them flutter closed.

He might do a stupid stunt once and a while, he decided, if it got him this kind of special treatment. But then the last thing he noticed before going unconscious was Derek growling. Then the man leaning closer, breaths warm on his face.

“Don’t you dare.”

Stiles laughed himself back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts: "No more stupid stunts, please" and "You scared the shit out of me" and of course, this had to be a hurt/comfort fic. Of course, I'd love to hear what you guys thought! Y'all are amazing <3
> 
> Come hang with me on Tumblr?
> 
> [the dumpster](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)


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